I felt like sharing this excerpt from one of the books I am rereading:

"He had always wanted to write music, and he could give no other identity to the thing he sought. If you want to know what it is, he told himself, listen to the first phrases of Tchaikovsky's First Concerto--or the last movement of Rachmanioff's Second. Men have not found the words for it nor the deed nor the thought, but they have found the music. Let me see that in one single act of man on earth. Let me see it made real. Let me see the answer to the promise of that music. Not servants not those served; not altars and immolations; but the final, the fulfilled, innocent of pain. Don't help me or serve me, but let me see it once, because I need it. Don't work for my happiness, my brothers--show me yours--show me that it is possible--show me your achievement--and the knowledge will give me courage for mine."

A colleague recently said something over drinks that harkens back to what a lot of us hear as children: if I don't have anything good to say about a piece of art, I'm just not going to comment about it. Saying something negative doesn't help anyone and I don't grow from it, so why should I do that?

I paraphrase, of course, but simply put, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. While in graduate school, this seemed to be the philosophy of everyone, from faculty to student. We would have critique sessions, demonstrations, clinics, etc., and the most common phrase was "I really liked how you..." When we try to learn how to provide constructive criticism, often we're told to sandwich a criticism between two compliments, show contrast by discussing both positive and negative aspects of something. Somewhere along the lines, the negative part dropped in favor of being polite. More often I see ideas disguised as intelligent discourse and dissent, but in actuality it is egotism inflated through privilege. Take Daniel Asia's occasional diatribe. In his post, "Carter is Dead," he used the phrase "The disintegration into chaos proceeds apace in the next six decades." This sentence is characteristic of his sentiment throughout--Op-Ed whose opinion is petulant and bitter. I do not claim to understand the majority of Carter's work, but I find something intriguing in most of his musical ideas throughout his life. I don't enjoy much of what I've heard, but I do not think my lack of pure understanding or personal enjoyment would justify the claim that the man's work spiraled into chaos. Carter created sounds that were utterly unique and require no other justification. Asia's opinions, on the other hand...

We need criticism. Not everything is gold. Not everything is sh*t. Everything that is created has the potential for discourse. How long the discussion lasts, is another story. I think that is an important, perhaps the most aspect of art: the life through discussion that follows it (the importance of creating art for creation's sake isn't discussed here). Mr. Asia's opinions are important only as part of the continuing discussion within the art world, but the one-sided, oft closed minded (slanted towards awkwardly classicism) views stop there. There is little relevance for a view that apparently does not wish to be multifaceted, and so using him as an example concludes.

I do not understand where criticism and its opposite began to morph into a nondescript haze of gray complacency.

Nico Muhly's "Two Boys" just received its American debut at the Met. I joined several colleagues last week to see the show. I was underwhelmed. One colleague was amazed by it and gushed over its quality while another joked that it was like an episode of Law and Order: SVU, but desperately needed Elliott Stabler to save the day. I enjoyed the second perspective more. As a story, it did not keep me enthralled and musically, it was rather bland. The choruses were straight out of Adams' Klinghoffer and the orchestration does not remain in my memory aside from being able to say it had "interesting moments." The final chorus of the opera was beautiful and for me, was most representative of the voice that Muhly tried to create for this story. The colleague I mentioned at the beginning did not enjoy the opera, but he felt that nothing good comes from simply criticizing a work, even if he found a detail or two that he liked. I beg to disagree. I found it to be an ineffective opera. The story's weird happenings were made flat by music that failed to rise in tension. The recit style of vocal writing was done well, but it all blended amorphously between soloists and chorus. It was important for the Met to put on this type of production, but I would hardly call this an important work in opera--intriguing, but not eye-opening, compared to the composer's choral and smaller works.

So there it is, I close this post by writing an opinion where I express what I like as well as my overall disappointment with a work. Growth can only rise through discussion. I admit, my perspective comes out as a jumble, but that unevenness is part of my process.